Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

On Wednesday, 14 November at 900 hours, Atsuko Yuzuki, 63, visited the Seasoning City Police Station and asked to speak to an officer. Atsuko stated that she was worried about the welfare of her son, Atsuko Jurou, 28. She alleged that he had been acting strangely for a few months about topics including power and “elimination.”

Atsuko J. visited his mother’s house on 7 November and continued with his strange behavior. On the morning of 8 November, Atsuko Y. woke up and found that her son’s suitcases were gone, but his car was still in the driveway. There was no sign of forced entry or burglary. Atsuko expressed that she was concerned for her son’s well-being, including his mental health. She agreed to contact SCPD if she were to hear any more details.

@okamura_hanako_19: My cousin Ishikawa Eiko has been missing since 4 November. She is 18 years old, 167 cm tall, about 55 kg, with long black hair and brown eyes. She was last seen at the border between Seasoning City and Aster Plains. She is not an esper and the police say that there is no connection to the current esper disappearances. Please contact me if you have any information. Eiko is an amazing person and I really hope that she can be brought home soon.

Please help me find my cousin!!!

“There is a serious problem going on and it looks like nobody even seems to care. People are disappearing in the middle of the night. In the past six months, seven esper children have gone missing from schools in the Seasoning City area. At what point do we say enough is enough? Do our children not matter to us? As a prefecture, we need to—”

Reigen lowers the volume on the radio and watches as the school doors burst open. Teenagers flood out of the building, hiking backpacks over their shoulders, exchanging friendly shoves, and waving goodbye to each other. Teru is surrounded by a group of his friends and it seems like they don’t want to let him go. It takes a few more minutes before the passenger door is opened and slammed shut, Teru climbing into his seat and tugging his seatbelt on.

Reigen shifts the car into reverse and begins to back out of the parking space. “How was school?”

Teru sighs, leaning his head against the window. “Boring.”

If I had a 10 yen coin every time I heard that... “You didn’t learn anything?”

“No.”

Reigen can’t help but laugh. They’re on the main road now, constantly having to stop for other kids crossing the street.

“Damn,” Reigen sighs. He tries to think of alternate routes, but until more of these kids cross, they’re stuck here. At least the air conditioner works.

Teru shifts in his seat, leaning forward to turn the radio up.

“We never told anyone that my son had powers. We never wanted it to interfere with his normal life. And I know I had the right idea, because when he didn’t come from practice that night—I just knew, in my heart, that was the reason.”

The crosswalk clears and Reigen presses on the gas. Teru is pulling his phone from the pocket of his blazer, scrolling through social media with a look of complete disinterest on his face.

“They’re saying it’s a cult of espers.”

Reigen has to stop again for another crosswalk. “Hmm?”

“The people that are taking everyone. They’re espers but they’re taking everyone, espers and regular people.”

‘Regular people.’ Reigen rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well like I told you, be careful. Don’t get into anybody’s car that isn’t mine. Don’t take stupid shortcuts, don’t go into any secluded areas…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Reigen clenches his jaw. “I’m serious, Teru.”

And he is. Reigen has no one to mind the office while he does pick-up, but that hasn’t stopped him from coming down every day since the beginning of the school year. With all the talk about kids going missing recently, he doesn’t want to take any chances.

It’s a fucked world that he has to live in, that he has to worry about his kid getting abducted just because he can move shit around without touching it. There’s no use in ignoring the problem, though. Reigen has to work in the confines of what he’s given. He’ll try everything he can to prevent something bad from happening.

“Do you know if Mob is coming by the office today?” he asks.

“He has that club thing. His mom is picking him up.”

“Good,” Reigen says. Teru rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Reigen doesn’t scold him for it.

They pull into the garage near the office and leave the car. They’re settled in the office, Teru on the couch with his homework and Reigen at the desk filing through emails, when the door opens and ushers in warm air. The man who enters the room is tall and broad with dark hair, dark eyes, and a five o’clock shadow. His uniform is navy blue, the gold buckle on his hat that of the Seasoning City Police Department.

Reigen and Teru stand and bow to him. The man returns their bow, removing his hat. “I’m Detective Yoshiro Ryōta. I’m assuming this is Suspects & Such Consultation Office.”

“Yes, you’ve come to the right place. My name is Reigen Arataka, some call me the greatest private investigator of the twenty-first century. We mostly attend to spiritual matters, which are my speciality, but we assist in all matters supernatural and earthly.”

“Well, this may be a bit of both. May I have a seat?”

“Of course. Teru, will you make Yoshiro-san some tea?”

Teru nods and darts to the kitchen. The two men take seats at Reigen’s desk and Yoshiro opens a messenger bag that he’d had hanging off his shoulder.

“First, I want to say that this is not affiliated with the Seasoning City Police Department and is a completely separate investigation. This is something that I’d prefer to keep in this office, and this information should be kept confidential. Some of the names on these leads have been redacted.”

“Of course,” Reigen says distractedly, wondering what he’s supposed to do with a bunch of blacked-out names.

Yoshiro slides the file folder across the desk’s short distance. Reigen opens it and is greeted with a stack of police reports, press releases, and social media screenshots.

“As you can see, this concerns the recent disappearances of espers and non-espers. All of the victims are considered to have run away to a compound in Aster Plains.”

Reigen scans through the first report about a woman and her missing son. “And you don’t think this was voluntary?”

“The adults, yes. The children, no. Most of the children seem to be espers.”

As if on cue, the kitchenette door swings open and Teru walks out with a tray. He places it on the desk and returns to the couch, picking his phone off the cushion and (Reigen knows) pretending to look at it.

Yoshiro glances at him over his shoulder before refocusing on Reigen. “It may not be a good idea for your son to hear this.”

“Considering that my son is fourteen and knows when to mind his business, and considering that we’re speaking about abducted children, I’d rather not ask him to wait outside.”

Yoshiro’s cheeks burn a little red. “I understand, Reigen-san. Apologies.”

“No need,” Reigen says, waving the apology away. “Please, continue.”

Yoshiro clears his throat and says, “I’m coming to you because I want to open my own investigation. I can’t do that as a junior detective but I know you can. The first report you read, the one about the mother—I was the detective on that assignment and I promised her I’d look into it. The SCPD isn’t as worried about the adults. I’m worried about them all.”

“So how exactly should I go about this? Should I go through the files, give them another review?”

“I’m looking for something a little more hands-on. Would you be opposed to taking a trip down to Aster Plains?”

Reigen practically hears the yen signs ringing in his ears. “That might cost a little extra, but—”

“I can pay anything you need. If there is a need for further investigation, I have contacts within the Esper Advocacy Group.”

The EAG? Damn, this is bigger than I thought.

“Hopefully, there’s no need for that and I can give you answers after a first look. But I won’t guarantee anything.” Even Reigen’s not stupid enough to promise something to a police officer.

“I understand. Before you go through the trouble of bringing up an estimate, would this be enough?”

Yoshiro reaches into his bag and pulls out a thick envelope. Reigen has to swallow his drool when he opens it and sees the fat stack of cash inside.

His grin is blood-thirsty and sharp. “We, at Suspects & Such, are happy to take on your case.”

It’s an hour drive out to the compound in Aster Plains. Thankfully, Yoshiro had been able to give Reigen coordinates that he could plug into a GPS. The tire tracks on the dusty road in front of him are so faint, they’re almost nonexistent. It’d be enough to give him the creeps if he wasn’t doing all of this in the middle of the day.

When the first building finally comes into view, his jaw drops.

“Holy shit.”

Sprawled across the land to the right of the road is a cluster of a dozen buildings with different heights. The buildings look to be made of stone, perfect for keeping cool air inside, and topped with solar panels. Even Reigen can respect that it’s a clean, efficient set-up, but what really makes his breath catch is the giant chain-link fence surrounding the compound, taller than every one of the buildings and topped with barbed wire like cursive writing across the blue.

An esper could get over that easily. This isn’t for keeping espers in. It’s for keeping non-espers out.

Reigen parks the car, slips out, and slams the door shut. He’s assuming that there’s been eyes on him since the second his car came into view. There’s no way for him to be inconspicuous; it’s not like he has the advantage of hiding behind other buildings. The only sound this far out is that of howling wind. His Subaru could probably be heard from a kilometer away.

He approaches the fence, scanning the area. There doesn’t seem to be a door, anywhere, but why would there need to be one? This means that any non-espers on the compound have no way of escaping on their own, unless there’s an underground tunnel system, which…Reigen doubts it.

“Hello?” he calls out. He waits for a minute, but the only sound he’s greeted with is that of the wind. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells the greeting again. This time, he waits for a few minutes until the door of the tallest building swings open.

A man steps out in an orange hanken, gray sweatpants, and bright green Crocs. That’s all weird enough, but the man is also holding a white umbrella above his head.

Maybe it’s to protect him from the sand and wind? Reigen doesn’t know their rituals. He’s probably just being ignorant.

The man stares at him like a deer in headlights, dark eyes unblinking under a crop of tight brown curls. Then, he walks across the sand to Reigen, peering at him through the chain links of the fence.

“We weren’t told that the police were coming today.”

“I’m not police,” Reigen says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card. He holds it through a gap in the fence. The man takes the card and stares at it.

Reigen knows what he’s seeing: an effective arrangement of jargon, contact information, and rainbow-colored stars. The man looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m a private investigator who specializes in the paranormal,” Reigen explains. “My name is Reigen Arataka. I was sent here by a group of people who are worried about their family.”

“Who?”

“That’s information I cannot disclose. I can try to answer any other questions you might have, though.”

The man glances back at the card, at Reigen, and then slips the card into the pocket of his pants. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re looking for.”

He turns his back to Reigen and starts to walk away.

“Wait!”

The man stops and looks at Reigen over his shoulder.

“I never got your name,” says Reigen. What if he’s one of the people who went missing?

“Serizawa Katsuya,” the man says. Reigen nods and tries to shoot him his most reassuring grin.

“Got it. It’s nice to meet you, Serizawa. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Huh?” Serizawa approaches the fence and faces Reigen again. “You can’t come back tomorrow. You can’t come back at all.”

“Why not? I still haven’t gotten my answers.”

“I never got mine, either,” Serizawa shoots back, glaring at him through the links of the fence.

Reigen racks his brain. This sometimes works with Teru…maybe it’ll work with Serizawa?

“I like your Crocs,” he says.

Serizawa’s jaw drops, and Reigen can only keep his composure for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Ah! You should’ve seen your face.”

Reigen clears his throat and any trace of laughter is gone. He rummages in his pocket for his phone before pulling it out and waving it between them. “But seriously. Mine are bright pink, wanna see?”

Serizawa closes his mouth. Reigen can see him thinking when he nods. Of course he agreed—what’s the harm in him seeing Reigen’s Crocs? It’s not like Reigen is gonna take off his shoes and put the Crocs on right there.

He opens his phone and jabs a few buttons before landing on the picture he wants. “See? I got them for my birthday a year ago, with a whole bunch of charms.”

Teru, Mob, and the Kageyama parents all contributed to the gift. He knew that it was Teru’s idea of a gag gift, but that didn’t stop him when he opened the box and almost cried.

“Is that—” Serizawa leans in a little closer. “Is that a shiba charm?”

“Yep. Won that one in an arcade machine. I got so lucky that day, I’m usually shit at those.”

He laughs a little and maybe he’s imagining it, but something in Serizawa’s expression seems to relax. The lines of tension around his eyes fade away, and suddenly he doesn’t look like some creep in a cult—just some guy interested in Reigen’s Crocs.

“I can bring you one tomorrow. I have one just like this, but it’s gray.”

“That...won’t be necessary…”

“I mean, you don’t have any charms on yours. That’s literally the whole point of having shoes with holes in them. What’s the point of having Crocs if you’re not using them for their intended purpose?”

“I thought their purpose was…walking…”

“Yeah,” Reigen scoffs, “if you’re boring.” For a second, he worries that he’s pushed too far, accidentally insinuated that the conversation with Serizawa has been tedious. But a small smile appears on Serizawa’s face, and it's kind of lovely, actually.

What? No.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Serizawa’s eyes search his face. “You’re gonna come all the way out here…to give me a charm?”

“Yep.”

“…Why?” Serizawa sounds like Reigen just said he has four arms and a tail.

“Because I said I would. And it’s just sitting around collecting dust, anyways. So, I’ll see you?”

He’s asked the question like three times by now, but this is the only time where Serizawa meets his eyes and says, “Okay.”

Yoshiro is satisfied with Reigen’s report that afternoon. Reigen tells him about the high gates, the lack of any visible transportation, and the conclusions that he had drawn about the purpose of the barbed wire fence.

“I’ll have to take this back to the EAG,” Yoshiro says, “but could you manage another visit?”

Reigen’s response is distracted; he’s just trying to remember where he stored that damn akita charm. “Sure.”

Now, his wheels are spinning through the sand, and the smell of dry wood is filtering through the open windows of his car. He’d turned on the radio, but he’d been met with the staticky stories of missing esper children, and he’d quickly shut it off.

He wonders what Serizawa thinks about the missing kids. Serizawa doesn’t seem like a barbed wire, kid-stealing kind of person. Then again, Reigen doesn’t really know him.

This time, he only has to call out once before Serizawa is walking over to meet him at the fence.

“Like I promised,” Reigen says, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out the akita charm. He gestures for Serizawa to hold his hand out. He can only fit his fingers up to the first knuckle through the opening in the fence, but he’s still able to drop the akita charm in Serizawa’s hand.

“You came,” Serizawa marvels, closing his fist around the charm.

Reigen grins. “I told you I was, didn’t I? Put it on, I wanna see how it looks.”

Serizawa adjusts his umbrella between his neck and shoulder so he can crouch down and fit the charm into the opening on his shoe. He pulls back and tilts his Croc so Reigen can get a better view.

“Perfect,” he says, “now we match.”

Serizawa hums. He’s staring down thoughtfully at his shoe, and Reigen waits, knowing that he has something on his mind.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, and Reigen nods. “When you said people are looking for their family members…were any of those ‘people’ from my family?”

The first thing Reigen did when he got back to the office was check his files for the answer to this exact question. “I didn’t see the name ‘Serizawa’ anywhere, no, but a lot of the information I received was redacted.”

Serizawa digs the toe of his Croc into the sand. The disappointment in his expression makes him look twenty years younger.

“Did you want somebody to be looking for you?”

“No!” Serizawa yells, and then his eyes go wide like he’s surprised by his own volume. “No, I…I’m fine, but I didn’t know. I wouldn’t want anyone to worry about me.”

Now that he’s answered Serizawa’s question, he can finally ask his own. “How long have you lived here?”

Serizawa looks past him into the desert. “I’ve…lived here ever since we created the headquarters. Three years.”

“Interesting,” Reigen drawls. “Your…organization has lived here for three years, but you’ve only been in the news for the past year. I wonder why that is.”

Serizawa purses his lips. “I…wouldn’t know anything about that,” he says.

The problem is that Reigen doesn’t know how much he can trust this person. This isn’t an unbiased source; this is someone who lives on the compound and, presumably, would do anything to protect it.

The only thing he can do is get more information. If Serizawa slips up, Reigen will be able to catch him in it.

“So…you came here entirely on your own?” He sits down on the sand, and when Serizawa just stares at him, he motions for Serizawa to join him.

Serizawa lowers himself to the sand and crosses his legs under himself. Reigen mimics the pose. Mirroring is a simple tactic he uses sometimes when he needs to build a client’s trust in him.

“I’ve been involved with Claw for several years.”

Claw. Normally Reigen would be writing this all down, but he doesn’t want the sight of a notebook to scare Serizawa off. But he keeps that name in his brain, repeating it to himself until it’s beating in his head like a pulse.

He has a feeling that it won’t be hard to remember.

“How did you get involved with Claw in the first place?”

“The President,” Serizawa says. “The President changed my life.”

He recounts this completely bullshit story about how he was a shut-in for fifteen years until the President promised Serizawa that he could teach him how to use his powers. It’s not bullshit because it’s fake, it’s bullshit because this guy just seems to be a total creep. So teaching Serizawa to use his powers means secluding him from the rest of society? Convincing him that he’s better than other people because he’s an esper? Ensuring that the only other people he can trust or befriend are people who support the President’s mission?

It’s. Just. Bullshit.

“So if this guy is the President, what does that make you?”

Serizawa seems to straighten. “I’m his bodyguard and one of the five essential employees of our operation.”

Bodyguard, hmm? Well, I guess it makes sense. Serizawa may not seem like the kind of guy who can intimidate someone, but Reigen has glimpsed the hidden power in those steely eyes and clenched jaw. Those kind of guys are the scariest ones—the ones that don’t seem like a threat—because they always come at you when you least expect it.

“And what is the mission of your company?” Reigen asks. “What are you guys trying to do?”

“We are aiming to make sure that espers have each other and always have a place in this world.”

Vague, but fine enough.

“When you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?” Serizawa asks.

“Well,” Reigen says, tapping a finger against his chin, “I guess I wouldn’t need to come back anymore if I’ve got everything. I’ll just give it back to the people who want it.”

Serizawa visibly swallows. “What will they do with it?”

“I dunno. It depends, maybe they won’t care. Or maybe they’ll wanna come here, storm the property and dismantle this set-up from the inside out.”

Serizawa pales.

“They can’t…they can’t do that,” he says, voice shaking.

Reigen shrugs. Serizawa’s fist, the one that’s holding the umbrella, clenches so hard his knuckles go white.

“Do you not…care? This is my life, this is the normality I have.”

The fence is juddering, probably the result of Serizawa’s powers. Reigen clucks his tongue. “It’s not that I don’t care, Serizawa. But my job”—he points at himself—”is to get the information. I can’t decide what comes afterward.”

Don’t feel bad, Reigen tells himself. But Serizawa’s face is open, genuine. The terror and the fear, all spelled out for Reigen to see.

He can’t help himself.

“Are you happy here?” he blurts. He stifles the urge to cringe at his bluntness. It’s a valid question, though.

Serizawa’s brow scrunches up. He’s blinking down at the sand like he’ll find the answer there.

“Am I…happy?”

“Yeah,” Reigen says. He rushes to fill the painful silence between them. “There doesn’t seem to be much to do out here.”

Serizawa is digging his free hand into the sand, fingers tunneling into the grains. The fence has stopped shaking.

It’s quiet, the only sound that of a plane whirring overhead. Reigen tilts his head up to view it, watches that single point of white carve its way across the blue.

“I…find things to do,” Serizawa says. It sounds like his tongue is heavy in his mouth.

Reigen lowers his head to face him. “Like what?”

Serizawa is still burying his hand into the sand; Reigen feels the urge to wrap his fingers around Serizawa’s and still them.

“I follow T—I follow the President to his meetings and make sure he’s safe.”

Doesn’t sound like much of a life. “So he doesn’t need you now?”

Serizawa shakes his head. “We’re in the final stages of our recruiting.”

“And what happens after the recruiting?”

Serizawa looks at him, now. “We’re…we’re making a better world. For espers. For everyone.”

And you have to kidnap people to do it? Reigen doesn’t want to even imagine what that world would look like.

He comes to a resolution in his mind. One more meeting, then he’ll stop. He’ll report his findings to Yoshiro, hand him his file, and try to let this all go.

“I want to see the headquarters,” Reigen says, pointing to the building behind Serizawa. Serizawa glances over his shoulder before facing him again, as if he’s forgotten what the headquarters looks like.

“I want to see exactly what this organization looks like—this organization that is gonna change the world for the better. Next time I come down here, would you give me a tour? Then, I promise, I’ll be out of your hair.”

There's a pause as Serizawa thinks it over, and then, “I’ll have to ask. I can’t promise anything.”

“Good enough for me,” Reigen says, standing and brushing sand off his pants. Serizawa stands, too, the metal tines of his umbrella scraping against the fence.

“I’ll see you,” Reigen says, and Serizawa nods. Reigen gives him a small bow and makes his way to the truck.

As he drives out of the desert, his wheels kicking up clouds of dust, he finds himself resisting the urge to turn around. He feels like he’s left something behind.

“You did good, kid.”

The smell of fry oil fills the air of Reigen’s little Subaru. Teru pops a fry into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and says, “I know.”

“I thought I taught you to be humble,” Reigen says. “Not”—he lifts his hand off the steering wheel and wiggles his fingers in Teru’s direction—”whatever this is.”

Teru grins. Despite himself, Reigen feels his lips tugging up into a smile. Let Teru be cocky, arrogant…god, let the kid have some personality. He’d take that any day over that scared, sad kid the Hanazawas had left on his doorstep.

“It wasn’t even that we were that good,” Teru says, rummaging in his MobDonald’s bag for more fries. “It was that the other team wasn’t prepared.”

“And that’s why training is important. Practice is what will take you far. But don’t discredit yourself, though. You did well.”

“Mhmm,” Teru mumbles through a mouthful of fries. When he’d met Reigen, he’d been the perfect, most polite eater, carefully guiding bite-sized portions of food to his mouth with chopsticks.

Yeah, not anymore.

When they enter the apartment, Teru pulls off his grass-stained shoes, shoves his MobDonald's bag into the trash, and makes a beeline for the shower. Reigen sighs, busying himself by rearranging the apartment, wiping down the chabudai and dusting off the top of the television.

He hears the shower crank off, the pipes creaking in protest. This place isn’t the best…but it’s enough to keep them safe and housed, and that’s what really matters.

There’s the sound of rustling down the hallway, and then the squeaky hinges of Teru’s bedroom door as he pushes it open. “Night!”

Teru’s “goodnight” means that he’ll stay up for another hour reading manga or scrolling through Mobstagram. “Night.”

After Reigen completes his own nighttime routine, he opens the sliding glass door in the living room and pads onto the balcony. He sits in his usual chair, fingertips tingling as he fights off the need for a cigarette. Paper and fire don’t mix.

He opens the folder on his lap. The file is thicker now, padded with his own notes, careful handwriting filling sheets of looseleaf paper.

Final stages of recruitment

World domination plan

A “better world” for espers

Of course, he wants a better world for espers. His damn kid is an esper, not to mention his best employee—Mob—and there’s also the fact that he partially makes a living off of claiming to be a esper.

But gods, does a better world have to look like this?

Are you happy?, he’d asked.

Serizawa had never answered.

He closes the file and sets it on the ground next to his chair. The moon hangs in the sky like a coin. Reigen watches clouds shift around it and wonders if Serizawa is awake, looking at the moon, too. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that.

The breeze kisses his face, the streets below him are silent, and he is very, very aware that he is alone.

He used to think he was okay with that, that what he had was enough. Now, in this moment, he’s not so sure.